Sobering

[Cyrus the virus]

The Grimoire of Auchin was a relic that Luc had long sought. It had been documented in more than a half-dozen texts that the mage studied, some from different eras, which was more than enough proof of its existence for him to pursue it.

A marvelous thing, the grimoire was said to have listed a minimum of two-dozen potent, intoxicating spells the likes of which were rare on Althanas. Spells to instantly deal death, to give life, to alter reality. It was a dream come true to the mage, who did what he wanted precisely when he wanted to do it.

Why, then, had it been so difficult to locate an item so very valuable? "Auchin" was an archaic term used to describe things originating from the country of Aushichine, which no longer existed. The relic was now simply known as 'Minster's Tome'. How it got the name, Luc had no idea, but a document from not so long ago led him to believe that the two items were one and the same.

Apparently, it was the treasure of a hideaway town called Pezra, considered as such because of the tome's sealed cover. Perhaps it just looked fancy enough to worship.

"How cliché," mused Luc as he gazed upon the low wooden gates of the town, a defense against the wilderness of the surrounding woods. Certainly they'd be no match for a mage of Kraus' talent.

With a remarkable crash the theory proved true, as the town gates exploded inward amidst a storm of wooden shards. Flaming wreckage remained as Luc stepped into the town, a very typical place for travelers to stop by.

The flaming Slykrit Blade in his hand, Luc announced his arrival with a stomp of his boot, sending a widening wave of earth forward that tore up stone, grass and boulders before falling once more, strewing debris about the area he was looking to approach.

No building seemed more remarkable than the other, but he didn't mind. If the tome was here, he would find it amongst the ash that he would create. Only those who fled quickly enough would be spared.

[Toy Soldier]

The tears streamed down Tobias’ face fiercer than the rain that fell from the charcoal colored clouds, high above the seas. Fëanáro Elensar observed his young colleague yet remained silent. The pain that the twelve year old boy felt equated his own, but to simply vocalize the agony resting heavily on his heart would be too much. Instead, the elf Elensar simply kneeled down, putting his armored arm around Tobias, shielding the back of his neck from the pelting raindrops.

“Why does it have to be like this!?” The Coronian child was referencing the new war that Xem’zund had thrown Raiaera into. Both he and Tobias had left the elven country a month prior on a special mission to sweep up lingering bounties that the High Bard Council had placed on the heads of individuals that’d committed a crime against the mother land. Raiaera had been sloppy with bounties, tending to let stray criminals fall through the cracks if they stayed clear of the elven continent. But out of the blue, the Cora’Lindstra called several Istien University students into his office one day, assigning them bounties to pursue. His face was stone like in stiffness, as if something else was troubling his mind, other than the few criminals with gold pieces attached to their name. Inquiries were prohibited and listening was demanded.

* * *

“And to Mr. Battalion…..here is your assignment.” Tobias took hold of the tattered scroll.

“Luc….Kraus?” The question was geared towards Elensar, since he knew that Varalad del Tirin already refused to answer any questions.

“Kraus is a powerful mage that’d tried to take hold of Eluriand several years back. His efforts quickly ended in failure, but he managed to escape the righteous clutches of our beloved Raiaera.” Fëanáro gazed at the Cora’Lindstra, having shifted his eyes from the scroll. Internally he wondered why he would assign such a grand task to young Tobias. It took several high level Bladesingers to thwart the efforts of Luc Kraus, and now he was simply sending Tobias after him alone? Fëanáro had been responsible for the boy ever since he saved him from Anebrilith thugs on one of the city’s rougher streets, so naturally he would accompany him. But still, for Varalad to feel so comfortable sending Tobias to apprehend Kraus was peculiar, if not disturbing.

“Something is going on………”

* * *

And indeed, there was something that was going on. The Cora'Lindstra saw the attack coming before many of Raiaera's citizens.

“I wish I could explain it Tobias, but I simply can’t,” The elf finally said, in response to Battalion’s question. “But what I can say is that Raiaera won’t fall by the power of that evil Necromancer. He’s attacked us before and we defeated him then. The goddess Aurient will grant success to our country!”

The seas rocked the ship as Elensar tried offering the boy words of assurance and valiancy. However, the elf’s heart was anything but assured. He’d been keeping up with the papers distributed, and nothing but continual bad news was being reported.

RAIAERA ATTACKED! XEM’ZUND’S FORCES TAKE CARNELOST!

The news just didn’t stop. Was there no hope for Raiaera? If there hadn’t remained any, then Fëanáro wouldn’t allow himself to believe it, let alone Tobias.
The ship had reached the docks of Talmhaidh. The stone city was a booming place of commerce, that’d just started becoming widely known throughout the major continents of Althanas. Those that sailed into their ports respected the lands, as they were fearful of the power that the Faes and Draconians possessed.

“We’re here Tobias. Let’s go.” The youngster lifted his eyes from off the deck and peered passed the sails and toward the great city. As the storm was growing increasingly worse, merchants did all they could to protect their wares, from extending their awnings, to boarding up that which the rain could either harm or destroy. Tobias looked at this and wiped his tears. A stern countenance fell upon him, albeit still exhibiting the pain that he felt.

“I can’t give up so soon! Raiaera still needs me to complete my mission!” Elensar noticed the change in Tobias’ demeanor and smiled. He saw the boy’s focus sharpen, all while struggling to suppress his anguish.

“The mark of a true warrior. Tobias, you’re becoming a fine young man.”

“Mr. Elensar,” Battalion called out, breaking Fëanáro’s train of thought. “You said that from the information we’ve have, reports say that Luc Kraus was going to Pezra, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct. He’s famous, so people are going to notice every little thing about him if given the chance.”

“Well then, let’s find out where Pezra is and capture him! We can’t let Raiaera’s enemies get away with doing bad things!” The boy froze having said that. Flashbacks of evil deeds he’d done back in Corone filtered into his mind, from the Hannah Benson murder, to the murders at the Brock Rundgren concert some years back. His body began to quiver, and it only worsened with the intensity of the downpour. However, the trembling stopped once Elensar put his arm around the boy again.

“Let’s figure out how to get to Pezra.” Elensar put his arm around Tobias again, which in turn caused the boy to cease trembling. He observed Tobias do this from time to time, figuring horrible memories of his past resurfaced. However, for the solid year that he’d been with the child, he never asked him about his life prior to coming to Raiaera. The elf knew that all would come out when Tobias was ready.

[Zephyriah]

The two of us found ourselves within Fiorair. This was the first time that either one of us had set foot on any part of the treacherous continent that served nothing but rain, lightening, thunder, and misery to its inhabitants. How beings with any kind of sense could dwell in such an unfavorable place was beyond the knowledge of both my brother and I. Nevertheless, the undesirables of this land took a backseat to the reason behind us even being here at all.

~ ~ ~

Someone had delivered a note to my mother, who in turn delivered it to me. She always had a knack for discovering my whereabouts whenever I came to Corone and this time was no different. In fact, it had to be easier for her this time around since I was already on my way through the countryside, heading over to Cross Cemetary which was the place where my father lay buried. Word had to have gotten back to Rune with somebody spotting me at some point on my journey. Nevertheless, when a chariot had approached me, I instinctively drew my blade, but it was met with resistance via another blade. “Put your sword down, you idiot.” The caustic words came from none other than my older brother Xirei who’d held the reigns of two white horses. His face was partially covered by his cloak, most likely having concealed his face from the people in Rune due to his past crime of slaying their former leader. My mother, who was holding onto his shoulders had released him and touched down on the dirt path, delivering me a motherly kiss and a hug. It was quite awkward, considering the fact that I hadn’t seen her since the fiasco down in Haidia. I surely thought that after all this time she would hate me, especially since I’d done nothing but cause her pain. Yet I suppose a mother will always be a mother.

“Its so good to see my youngest son after all this time.” Mother said with a bright smile. Xirei having witnessed this rolled his eyes and waved his hand down in my direction. Mother took notice and turned an icy-blue eye over to him.

“Is there a problem my son?” Her tone was sharp and harsh, much like it was back when I was a child. Xirei didn’t say anything, but his expression remained the same. It wasn’t until I taunted him with my hand that he broke free of his idle state. His blade smoothly slid from his sheath as he blasted toward me. Fully prepared, “Nothing” was raised and swung low in order to slash the charging half-elf across his mid-section. But both our blades were parried at the same time by a long sword that mother quickly pulled from a scabbard, that was hidden underneath her robe. It was a subtle strike, but her attacks knocked my brother and I to the ground. Both of us gazed at her in shock.

“What?” She said, possessing the largest grin on her face.

“Since when did you…..?”

“Learn to wield a sword?” She finished my brother’s question, which was the very same inquiry I was preparing to ask.

“Both of my sons’ fathers saw the need to teach me how to defend myself. Because I once had love for both of them, I soaked in every bit of teaching that they had for me. But you two would’ve never known that since I kept it secret. A mother wielding a blade is unbecoming. But as the leader of the city of Rune, it is not,” Sliding the long sword back into its scabbard, she came between my brother and I and pulled us both up by our white locks.

“You two are all I have, and even after all this time you still haven’t settled your differences!? Zephyriah, you slayed Urondir Fararion and Xirei, you slayed Victor Ablione! The both of you need to get over it!”

Such words fell on our ears with great weight, seeing how we’d never heard mother speak in such a way. Had her grief subsided? Or had she learned to block out her real feelings over the matter? The latter was possible, but for some reason, I felt that the former was probable.

“Both of you come from families of war. I would’ve never imagined in my wildest dreams that my children would kill one another’s father, but I can’t say that I’m surprised. Both Victor and Urondir knew that the dangerous life they led had its consequences. Nevertheless, they taught their sons to walk down the same path that they did. But from where I stand, if my children are going to fight, then I don’t want to see them fighting with each other!”

Tears started rolling down mother’s face. Xirei leaned in to comfort her, but she extended her arm out, holding him at bay. Lifting open her pouch, she suddenly handed me a letter.

“Who is it from?”

“It’s from a man named Tiamat,” She replied, wiping away her tears. He sent a messenger to deliver it and said that both you and Xirei would remember him.

Instantly, the two of us shot concerned glances in each other’s direction. Images of the half human, half dragon poured into my mind, remembering the fierce power with which he used to help us fight the evil Haidian vampire Caiaphas and save mother in the Great Cave Town. His personality was a bit salty and he didn't seem to care about us at all, which was why it was so strange that he would send a letter completely out of nowhere like this.

Fararion urged me to open it, so I did.

To Zephyriah and Xirei:

I know that nearly four years have passed, but I’ve been meaning to write to you both, thanking you two for your help with Caiaphas. The vampires in the Great Cave Town stopped feeding on the dragons once that vile vampire was slain. I never forget those who help me with a dilemma and I haven’t forgotten you two either. That is why I’m having you both join me in Pezra, Dheathain to show you two my gratitude. I look forward to seeing you guys after all of this time.

- Tiamat

“Having us join him? Heh, sounds like we don't have a say in the matter.”

“That's because you don't. I spoke to Tiamat’s messenger several weeks prior to him actually delivering the letter. He told me the whole story, filling all the blanks. I wasn't sure if I would be able to find you at a reasonable time, but as luck would have it, here you are. Therefore, I’ve decided that you both are going to go visit him.”

“What, with Zephyriah!? How come!?” Xirei yelled, but quickly quelled his fury, having already been reprimanded by mother once before and not wishing to receive it again. I didn’t care either way, seeing how Tiamat was someone that I actually liked, despite how he felt about us. He was a man with great strength and that was something that I respected. Traveling with Xirei was bound to be a thorny inconvenience, but it was an inconvenience that I would endure for mother. It simply was the least that I could do for her.

“Paying the half dragon a visit sounds fun,” Closing the letter, I stuck it into my knapsack. “I don’t know why he’s in Dheathain, but I suppose we’ll find that out when we get there.”

Mother smiled again, certainly surprised that I’d taken all this so well. “I’m glad to here that Zephyriah," Her eyes then set upon both of us. "Take care of one other while you both are out there. And remember, you two are all that I have left.”

It was obvious that Xirei definitely wasn’t content with being forced to go on this excursion with me, but he cared about mother as much as I did, and would get over whatever he was feeling. After all, this was nothing more than a simple visit to see an old ally. Surely nothing could go wrong.

"It looks like I'll have to see you some other time......father."

[Cyrus the virus]

"Fire! Get papa, quick!"
"What happened?!"
"Assemble the guard!"

Pezra was by no means a large town, roughly the size of Radasanth's market district, but that didn't mean it was silent. The sudden surge of flames and heat awakened the community, summoned dozens of pale-skinned, thin commoners to the charred gates of town. Standing just beyond the flaming rubble was Luc Kraus, sword burning with intensity at his side. He seemed so calm, standing in a relaxed stance with his emerald eyes scanning the area. "What a quaint, swampy mess of a town," he observed.

The gathering of people seemed to grow, though for ever two inhabitants that appeared, one would run off. Luc seemed to be waiting for someone to make a move, so he could slip out of his poised stance and inject fear into them all - but nobody did. They were a town of gutless whelps, it seemed, preferring to beg to be left alone rather than fight him for their lives.

Perhaps, he thought, they don't realize how quickly I can kill them. Dheathain must learn my name.

He lifted his sword, enticing an audible, collective gasp from the crowd before him. With a mighty vertical slash, an arc of roaring orange flames short forth from the weapon, cutting through the screaming humanity as if it were a knife dividing a piece of bread. Luc sneered and began to step forward determinedly, his eyes looking past the fleeing humans and the charred remains, looking to the first building on his radar.

"He's dead! He's burned up to a crisp!" someone screamed, horrifically detailing what he saw at his feet. The mage ignored it entirely.

Before him now was a two-story building made from a yellowish, heavy-looking material that looked almost waxy. Planting the Slykrit Blade into the soil next to him, Luc set to task at waving his arms about in an intricate pattern, a torrent of blasting winds circling the building. He detected no magic inside, which meant no tome, but the mage lived for these particular moments.

Suddenly, like a weed in the grass, the building lifted right off its foundation, ripping apart in a violent whirlwind that tore it apart. As suddenly as it spawned, the wind died down and pieces of material rained from the sky. Anything that came close to Luc was blown aside, an afterthought as he reclaimed his sword.

Those still around to watch him screamed in horror, others just froze in place. He seemed otherworldly, and he may as well have been with the power he wielded. And after he received this book of spells, Luc knew he would be all the more fearsome. One step closer to immortality.

"I come for your treasure, Pezra!" he declared. "Whomever brings it to me will get to live! Their family, too! Quite a generous gesture from the great Luc Kraus, gentle mage!"

He laughed then, maniacally, with complete abandon and joy. Naturally, he had no intention of living up to his part of the suggestion.

[Toy Soldier]

The swampy terrain that nested many of the towns and cities of Dheathain was unpleasant to all denizens, and outsiders were certainly not excluded. Greenish brown muck covered the four wheels of Tobias’ wagon, with some of the smelly and moist slush finding an abode within the red vehicle, plastered on the idle toys. The child’s shoes were also consumed, with white laces now a deep brown as well as the high socks he wore. Despite being a warrior in training, Battalion was still a kid, and his frustration with the elements showed. “This is stupid! Why does Pezra have to be deep in a place like this?” Tobias looked down at the murky water that only darkened the deeper it went. Shadowy figures of something foreign and terrifying could be seen by the boy. Whatever lurked deep below greatly anticipated the youngster falling in and becoming lunch. But Tobias remained stone still, not wishing to bring that to fruition.

Fëanáro moved him and his young partner along via a wind spell that kept them afloat and out of the deep swamp waters. They’d originally tried to get locals to escort them to Pezra, but the fees were much too high for the low quality ships that they had in their possession. Surely it was a rip off act, with the natives trying to milk the wealthy looking soldiers for every gold piece they could possibly get. The mature elf wasn’t upset by the people's attempt to do this though, for it was clear that the economy of Dheathain wasn’t nearly as stable as Corone or Raiaera. Had it been another time, perhaps Elensar would’ve bit the bullet and paid a little extra. But time was of the essence and shoddy rowboats would do nothing but sap up the interval.

“I’ll probably need to rest once we get to Pezra,” Fëanáro winced, feeling the strain of maintaining the spell. Tobias was so focused on the unfavorable conditions that he hadn’t even noticed that the spell was sapping his comrade’s strength so rapidly.
“How far are we from Pezra Mr. Elensar?” Tobias asked, trying to keep Fëanáro standing by propping him up from underneath his arm. The elf took out a rolled up map from his belt.

“I marked Pezra in green.” Tobias saw the star-marked town and also managed to find their current location as well. Since Dheathain landscape was unique, every aspect of it was indicated on the map.
Looking up, the young soldier saw the thick, swampy forest opening up.

“I think we’re almost,” Yet the stench of rotten burning wood abruptly struck Fëanáro and Tobias’ nostrils. “Pezra! It’s on fire!”

It wasn’t long before the two came across broken and scattered pieces of the flaming gate that was blackening due to the embers. Elensar ceased his wind spell and crouched down to examine one of the destroyed pieces of wood. “It’s rich with magic. Kraus, he must be near by!” Immediately the Bladesinger shot up and dashed into the Podunk town, following the potent trail of magic that was ripe in the air. Tobias, dragging his wagon through moist soil screamed for his companion to wait, but Elensar ignored him. In a crisis, a soldier's responsibility was to look after one another, but that was only when he had done everything he could to prepare himself.

Although Battalion was behind, he was determined to keep Fëanáro within his sights. His legs pumped as hard as they could, trying to keep steady with the wagon bumping against any and all obstacles that were strewn along the grassy land. “Stupid wagon! Stop hitting everything!!”

The boy eventually stopped, having finally caught up to the Bladesinger. However, he soon adopted the transfixed look that Fëanáro had upon laying his eyes on what was before him.

“These people…..there all….dead!” Battalion cried out, gazing at the charred corpses. Their faces were all frozen with agony, truly not expecting that their time to die would have come so suddenly and horrifically. The trail of this crime led to a fully functioning, fully alive being who stood some twenty feet away from the scattered bodies. This maniacal man wore a forest colored cape and green tunic, which had peculiar arcane designs etched into its stitching. There was no doubt that this was the target.

“Luc....Kraus…” Elensar clenched his jaws as he looked at the mage. Tobias had heard his senior utter the name of the criminal, and instantly grew more furious than he already was.

“Luc Kraus! You are under arrest for trying to take over Eluriand and now for killing these people! We’re Bladesingers from Raiaera and we WILL capture you! You won’t get away with what you’ve done!!!” His declaration wasn’t the most eloquent statement ever spoken to a criminal, but the boy was young, and he wasn’t concerned about speech with his anger being at such a heightened level. He took hold of the steel shield and wooden paddle that he’d strapped to his wagon and held it firmly in a battle stance. Elensar shot a quick glance over to the youngster, but then shifted his eyes back on Luc. He knew how Tobias got when his anger grew out of control and thus urged him to stay focused. Doing so probably had Kraus key in on the boy’s inexperience, but perhaps he would underestimate Tobias, which would then lead to his downfall.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc's grin was still pasted firmly, immovably on his face when Tobias and Fëanáro arrived at the gates of Pezra. The mage was preparing to move onto the next home when he heard his name cried out. Like a moth to a flame, Luc's attention suddenly drifted directly toward whomever it was who knew him.

Turning his excited eyes back toward where he'd come from, Luc was immediately disappointed. With a sigh of contempt, he turned his body to face the newcomers, sheathing the Slykrit Blade and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Bladeslingers?" he said with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. "Two? I killed more than a score of Bladeslingers on my last visit to Eluriand, and they send two for me now? One of them a child?"

He didn't feel that they were even worth killing. With a raised hand Luc beckoned the earth between himself and his pursuers, and erected a wall of brick-hard soil that extended at least twelve feet high, stretching a few dozen feet horizontally. If they wanted to follow him, they'd have to climb or take the long way around the buildings at either end of the wall.

"Bladeslingers," he spat. "Admirable that they tracked me all the way here, but I don't have time to deal with..."

Interrupted by the whimpering of somebody behind him, Luc turned to lay eyes upon a group of five, two adults and three children, who held out petty possessions to him. At first he was confused, but remembering his earlier words, Luc found himself enraged. "Not your petty garbage! The tome! Give me your city's treasure, you swine!"

From his person came a gust of wind so powerful, so violent, that it snapped the family up as if they were leaves on the ground. Bones snapped from the sheer violence of the upheaval, and in less than two seconds, they were gone. Luc calmed considerably at this, took a quick glance both ways, and began to walk forward once more, his footsteps turning the solid earth into mud behind him.

[Zephyriah]

Within Fiorair’s forested capital city of Suthainn, Tiamat stood before Darroch dar Gaevrin, who was in his throne room. Each Draconian had a stern look that could’ve easily crushed an individual under the weight of fear that such penetrating gazes would produce. However, with the eyes of a Draconian staring into the eyes of another Draconian, such effects were null and void. Instead, the manufactured emotion was respect, especially on the part of Tiamat. And because of this deep respect that the relatively young Draconian had for his leader, he found speaking a hard task.

“You aren’t going to stand before me with nothing to say, are you? You know why I’ve summoned you.” Darroch crossed his legs while tapping his long and strong fingers on the twisted branches that his armrest was comprised of. In no way was he the most patient leader that Fiorair has had, but with Tiamat he slightly deviated from the norm of his character.

“Of course I know, Ceann Cath. It’s just that…..I thought that it would work. I was sure that colonizing the dragons of Haidia would produce a strong relationship and alliance between them and the Draconians.”

Tiamat’s contorted countenance revealed a man that was truly perplexed. A month ago he’d officially returned from the underground realm. The full-blooded dragons had established their trust in him and conversations were in the works of the Dragons actually migrating from the caves of Haidia to Dheathain in order to strengthen Fiorair as a whole. Most didn’t care about the swamp country, but since they’d developed such love for Tiamat, they were willing to give it a try. However, this was all before Salvar had attacked the Demons of Haidia while they were in the process of moving from the cavern world, thus sending them back to where they’d come from. This ploy was to be expected from the surface dwellers since the demons weren’t favored by many of them. But what Tiamat didn’t expect was the surrounding countries to dismember the only portals allowing travel to and from Haidia. Therefore, at the last minute, Tiamat fled, leaving the dragons and the relationships he established behind.

“There was high probability that your strategy was doomed to fail anyway. Dragons have long carried disdain for us Halflings. While they are our seniors and entitled to their opinions, we must live on with or without them.”

“But sir, does it have to remain that way? Wouldn’t you like to see a union between the two?” The lesser Draconian’s face lit up due to the possibility of such a dream. However, Darroch’s face remained apathetic and firm.

“The theory is indeed interesting, but at the end of the day, the Dragons are not my concern. I have a job to do, the protection of my people is what is most important to me. I commend you for your efforts, but as of right now, such a grandiose task is simply not possible.”

The words of the Ceann Cath carried power and finality, which Tiamat certainly recognized. He didn’t say a word, but his displeasure was written all over his face. Turning around, the Draconian left the presence of his leader and left Suthainn.

Tiamat flew back to his hometown of Pezra leisurely since discontent with his mission sat heavily on his shoulders. He’d always been an ambitious warrior, willing to give his time and energy for the betterment of the Draconian people, doing whatever was necessary to make that happen. “I was so close……” Anger swelled in the Draconian, which in turn added power to the flap of his wings. Thoughts of the inconsiderate and racist Salvarians entered his mind. He wished that he could form a platoon of some sort and invade their land, confining them to the outback tundra’s and see how they would respond to it. But such a thought was for naught, as it would never happen, nor would the Ceann Cath allow him to do that.

As upset as the Draconian was, he knew it would be something that he’d get over. “I’m not going to give up that easily. I’ll surely have other opportunities!” A smile broke free from the countenance of the disgruntle man. However, as quickly as his joy emerged, was as quickly it was stolen upon his arrival at the gate of Pezra. “What’s goin on here?” Tiamat became tense, observing small flames consume the once sturdy wooden barrier. Nervousness and caution were what occupied him until the horror of what’d taken place hit him at full force.

Blood leaked from dead bodies strewn about in all direction. The sound of people shrieking was resounding, as each individual scream seemed to crash into Tiamat’s ears all at once. Frantically moving about, the Draconian came across a victim who still happened to be alive from the onslaught.

“Please….tell me what has happened here!?” Tiamat gently supported the dying man as he let him rest against his body.

“Mage…..came….killed…..so many…….” The man couldn’t continue on. His eyes glazed over, signifying that life had unjustly fled him. Words could not describe the fury that brewed within the Draconian. Lifting his head up, he scanned the area for the invader. Pezra was fairly small so there wouldn’t be that many places to look, especially since the murderer showed no intention of hiding his tracks.

Taking to the air, the Draconian found the enemy within moments. A large earthen wall had been erected in front of a young, feather headdress wearing child and a noble looking elf. Yet on the opposite side of that magically conjured wall, Tiamat’s fierce red eyes saw the foe, having caught the tail end of a ruthless display of violence and carnage by the villain.

Bones and flesh descended from the air, having been tossing upward with great ease by the evil magician. Unable to hold back his rage any longer, the Draconian let out a roar that shook the very ground that the denizens below trotted on. Flexing his wings, he tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide. Accumulating a massive amount of red-hot energy, Tiamat expelled an intense blast from his orifice as wide as a Suthainn tree-trunk.

The Draconian didn’t know this fellow, but determined that there would be no mercy for this invader whatsoever. Judgment on his unrighteous head would without a doubt, come to pass.

[Cyrus the virus]

Luc only took a few steps forward before another distraction halted him. As able as he was to overcome these constant obstacles, even the most momentary lapse in his pursuit was beginning to annoy him.

So he looked over to where the roar came from, which happened to be a few meters up in the sky - and by the time he realized what was happening, the fire was almost upon him.

No matter. Not for Luc, anyhow. Extending an armored hand to the incoming flames, the mage took hold of them and brushed them aside with a jerking movement of his arm, directing the thick stream over into the window of a nearby home. The impact shattered the glass and set the building ablaze in roaring, hungry fire. Luc's chuckle was dry, heavy with vile amusement.

The ground below Luc rattled and shook, suddenly rising in a massive, imposing pillar that brought him up to the ugly hybrid. "Your aim was off," he said with a laugh, "unless you were trying to roast that family."

As intriguing as it was for a Draconian to be soaring before him, Luc just didn't have the time to play. Giving the creature a quick up-down scan with his eyes, the mage once again gave one of his coy smiles. "I can fly too, but it takes some focus. I wonder," he said, narrowing emerald eyes, "is it the same for you?"

With the last word, Luc pointed a finger at the Draconian and casted his Muddle spell, an ability that manipulated the balance of a foe, among other confusing effects.

Assuming the spell would deliver the flier to his death, Luc allowed himself to fall backward off of the pillar, summoning a powerful gust of wind to slow his fall, turn him and set him on his feet on the earth. Gazing curiously at the pillar, Luc got an idea that put a chill through his entire body. Putting his hands upon it, the mage leaned and strained mentally, tilting the massive cylinder until it creaked over and fall heavily atop a row of homes. The ground shook violently, and Luc laughed aloud at the carnage.

((Assuming Tiamat is considered an NPC, Muddle's effect is the greater of the two described in my profile))

[Toy Soldier]

The Coronian child tilted his head back in sheer awe of the large obstruction that Kraus merely created with a lazy upward swipe of his arm. It was as if the soggy terrain had long ago submitted to the evil mage’s slavery, doing the will of its master on command and without hesitation. "Does he control all elements this easily?" Battalion wondered as he ran to the left of the earthen wall just in time to see Luc wield yet another element in an unjustified act of violence.

In this scenario, the selected method of death for the innocent people of Pezra was wind. Furious gusts cumulated out of docile breezes, sweeping up a cluster of fair toned denizens and tearing them apart violently. The blood of these victims descended like sun-showers, chock full of intensity but extremely brief. Splashes clashed against the child, staining his white tunic and Tikantan headdress crimson. If rage could manifest hues in the eyes of the orphan, then the palette of choice would consist of a full range of vermillion.

Tobias clenched his fists. The red wagon shook as if enduring a self-contained earthquake. Elensar noticed this and turned his gaze toward the child. He had been around the youngster long enough to know when the boy’s anger entered the early stages of madness. All too often the Bladesinger would intervene and calm the child down when such a thing would happen, but he refrained from that action this time. “This is a real battle. He will have to learn to deal with his emotions appropriately.” Elensar focused again on the wall and veered toward the right of the massive obstacle. Stealthily poking his head around the corner, he noticed that Kraus’ attention was seized by something aerial. Following his eyes, Feanaro stared surprisingly at the Draconian warrior.

“So fast! I didn’t even hear him coming!” Marveling any further became foolish when the angered half dragon let loose a pillar of fire on the land. The raw power of such a concentrated blast should’ve easily devoured the lithe framed Kraus, but he somehow averted the flame pillar with another device out of his deep bag of tricks. However, the force of the blast carried enough power, that when the mage had countered it, massive ricochet flames broke off from the Draconian’s fire pillar, latching onto the brick hard soil obstruction and engulfing it. Ruin and devastation quickly commenced.

“Tobias!” Elensar’s concern for his young colleague caused him to dash in his direction, attempting to save the boy from the impending destruction. But his legs could not carry him the full distance. Uttering a few song notes formed a protective barrier around the Bladesinger. The manufactured cylindrical wall fell down to the soil, squashing nearby residential cabins and lives like its sibling did, the compacted dirt pillar that Luc Kraus used to elevate himself to the Draconian’s level. The already clamorous wails and cries of the frightened and desperate people only intensified with the collapsing of the blazing earthen impediment. Had Pezra not been in a continent that experienced torrential downpours on nearly a daily basis, the licking embers would’ve snatched the town up in an unforgiving inferno, leaving nothing but charred remains.

Instead, deep puddles and moist soil took the flames head on, producing billowing smoke and steam, which clouded the elf’s vision. This did not stop Feanaro from screaming out the boy’s name though. Three shouts awarded him silence, but the fourth came with a response.

The Bladesinger heard the sound of wagon wheels rolling through wet and sloppy muck. From out of the gaseous obscurity emerged Tobias along side Season, who concentrated on upholding a circular wind barrier that’d kept the Coronian orphan safe.
“Feanaro, what are we going to do? Kraus is a lot stronger than I thought he’d be!” Tobias was concerned, but not frightened. He still remained on guard, even though the wicked mage was preoccupied with the Draconian.

“So you’ve brought Season out,” The blond haired elf wasn’t very fond of the robed fellow due his arrogance. Season cast a pompous eye at everyone he looked upon. “You don’t suppose you can get him to help us out here, do you Tobias?”

When it seemed that no further debris would descend from the sky, Season dispelled the wind barrier and stepped to Elensar, stopping only several inches in front of his face. “You do well, insignificant whelp,” A vile grin on the Toy World resident stretched from cheek to cheek. “I’m thrilled that you’ve learned that you are not worthy to speak to me directly.”

Tobias quickly came in between the two men, pushing Season away so that he wouldn't start an unnecessary quarrel. “He’ll help us Feanaro, you don’t have to worry.” A scornful look dominated the Toy World mage’s eyes, setting hotly on the child. Even though he was consistent in displaying a fierce countenance with anyone he deemed beneath him, the foul temper he normally wielded did not transfer entirely to Battalion. The boy was the gate opener, the chosen one who had sole power to release the lock to the wagon world or seal it. Even if he despised a decision Tobias made, he was careful not to make too big of an issue out of it.

“Argh….what do I have to do….” Season sighed, rolling his eyes.

Tobias shifted his focus on Elensar, awaiting a plan that he knew his caretaker had stewing in his battle seasoned mind.

“Both of you, follow me.” The elven soldier ran through the smoke until he came to an area hidden in a concentrated section of trees where his vision was clear. From the shadows of the trees, the trio could see Kraus clearly. “Tobias, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine,” A typical question and response exchange to others was code between the master and his disciple. Tobias nodded his head to Season then, who in turn lifted his hands, casting an unseen force one hundred yards long and wide. “We’re ready whenever you are.” The boy said to Feanaro.

A soft, yet solemn verse was sung by the Bladesinger, which caused the earth that Kraus stood on to quake. Then, with Elensar providing power to the final note, tightly packed dampened grime and jagged stone quickly erupted from the soil in spiral fashion to wrap and crush the malicious warlock.

[Zephyriah]

Had it not been for the sound of squelching water from the aqua life beneath the darkened, murky waters as well as the ruffling of thick vegetation no doubt caused by carnivorous Dheathain beasts, the long voyage to Tiamat’s hometown of Pezra would’ve been plagued with awkward silence between my brother and I. Our relationship, although worlds better than what it used to be, his barrier as well mine had remain erected. Two siblings that killed each other’s father were bound to kill each other one day, but both Xirei and I sought to soar beyond such thinking for the sake of our mother. She was quite aware of the strain on our relationship, but simply loved the fact that her two sons were together.

Clearly though, both he and I did not share the same exact sentiments.

“You look different. What’s going on with you?” Fararion broke the silence with his statement and inquiry. By the tone of his voice, one would’ve assumed that his question was riddled with sarcasm and insult, but that wasn’t the case in this particular situation. In fact, there was something going on with my appearance as well as how I felt. A once smooth crimson complexion took on a scaly texture, coated with a faint sheen of silver. And of course, this was compounded with the strange desires I had to kill for blood, which was certainly a testament to the life liquid of the vampire Caiaphas that ran through my veins.

“I wish I could tell you, but I’m not entirely sure what’s happening either.”

Xirei didn’t say anything after that. Often when someone was dealing with an issue, he didn’t pry into the dilemma, but rather let that individual go through whatever was necessary in order to overcome it. Surely I was no different, but it would’ve been beneficial to a certain extent to get his perspective on my odd condition. He was trained early on in his life as a song mage specializing in magic taught by the Raiaeran school of Turlin. For all I knew, some warlock could’ve placed a curse on me without me being aware. “He might really know something about this,” My lips opened as if preparing to ask Xirei if he could perhaps shed some light on my situation, but the words did not come out. Immediately I thought back to how I’d been the reason for his drastic life change. Prior to his father falling by my sword, Fararion lived in the elven country free of real personal turmoil. For all I knew, he could’ve still desired such a comfortable life and bringing up anything related to his past could’ve stirred up feelings that he’d worked extremely hard to bury.

So the mouth shut and the lips sealed. Silence would conquer the world we shared yet again that is, until we arrived in Pezra.

“What’s……going on…here?” Xirei’s shock equaled my own. Flames consumed the small town, but what was most astonishing to us, was the clumsy descent of a rather large Draconian.

“T…Tiamat!?” Before confirmation on the identity of this being could be obtained, the mountain-of-a-man stormed into my arms.

Lo and behold, it was indeed our ally, but he definitely was not himself.

“Argh!!!!!” The Draconian shook violently as he grasped his head in excruciating agony. Flailing his arms and legs in a wild manner, both Xirei and I grabbed him in a desperate attempt to calm him down.

“Tiamat, it’s us! Zephyriah and Xirei!” I yelled, struggling to hold the strong man.

“Z….eph and X…irei?” The indignant flailing ceased, but was followed by a wild ground rolling. I sought to ask him about the present chaotic state of the town, but my questions were quickly answered upon laying eyes on a mage whose maniacal laughter attached him to the destruction that’d fell upon this community. There was a small boy along with an elven warrior who seemed to carry the same indignation that I was developing, and this was attributed to the fact that they were engaged in battle with a mage who seemed to be the cause of this chaos. His maniacal laughter was proof of that.

Nothing more had to be said. The mage would soon be dealt with, but Tiamat was first priority at this point in time. Therefore, Xirei and I lifted him up and set him by a nearby tree to rest. Whispering elven words of some kind, Xirei cast a white barrier over Tiamat that eased his pain somewhat, yet by no means comforted him completely. The goal was clearly to get Tiamat to a point in which he could control his pain and speak so that any insight that he had on the foe could be heard. Neither my brother nor I were in the business of rushing into fights blindly, so any additional information was of great importance.